The Story of the Old Woman and the Tepig
by Anna Sartin
Summary: A Pokemon-themed retelling of the classic folk tale, The Old Woman and Her Pig. I could use a cover image if anyone's interested in drawing it.


**The Story of the Old Woman and the Tepig**

_A Pokémon folk tale by Anna Sartin_

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There was an old woman who lived by herself just outside of a quaint-looking village in the Unova Region. She generally didn't have much in the way of money, but one day she chanced upon a shiny coin and decided to go to the market and see what she could buy with it.

"I'll buy a pig," she decided on the way there. "It will keep me company, and pigs don't bark like my neighbor's noisy Lillipup or scratch like that naughty stray Purrloin." So she walked to the village thinking how lucky she was to have found a bit of money on Market Day.

Market Day was a weekly gathering where every Sunday people set up shop in the center of town to buy and sell just about everything a person could want or use. She passed a green grocer, a wood seller, a booth that sold foreign spices and stall run by a tinker who made pots and pans. She looked at each place and examined each merchant's wares with interest, but none of these people had what she was looking for. Crossing over to the next isle, she soon passed a potter, a fortune teller, a woman selling flowers and one of the many fruit stands scattered throughout the place. The isle after that contained an elderly glass maker, a foreign-looking man selling wooden figurines, and a group of children running a lemonade stand. Two of the children were arguing over whether or not decorating their glasses with lemon slices would be a waste of lemons.

"I can't buy a pig in any of these places!" the old woman complained to herself. She continued on for several more isles until finally she located the person she was looking for: the merchant who sold Pokémon!

"I'd like a pig, please," she told the man.

"Got plenty of those!" the merchant said cheerfully. "Both local and foreign. How about this?" He pulled out a pokeball and released a Mamoswine. "Newly imported from Sinnoh. Healthy, high level and at a very good price!"

"Oh my," said the old woman, gazing up at the giant creature. "That's a big pig. Too big for me, I'm afraid. It wouldn't fit in the house!"

The merchant recalled the Mamoswine and released a Grumpig next. "How about this Grumpig?" he suggested. "Imported from Hoenn. He's more expensive, but his psychic abilities are incredible!"

"Well, actually..." the old woman began, as she looked in her purse for the coin she'd found. "Ah, here it is." She held the coin up so the merchant could see it. "All I have to spend is this."

The merchant's eyes narrowed, and his trademark salesman-smile deflated. "Hang on," he said in a flat tone of voice, not bothering to hide his disappointment as he recalled the Grumpig. He then ducked under the counter and the old woman could hear pig-like squealing as the merchant said, "Come here, you!" He popped back up a few seconds later with a small Tepig in his arms. He dumped it on the counter. "You can have this one. She was part of a starter set but no one wanted her because she's afraid of everything."

"She looks so sweet!" the old woman said, petting the shy Pokémon. Tepig was reluctant to be handled at first, but it soon snuggled against her, deciding it preferred the demure old lady's company to that of the loud merchant. "She's perfect!" the old woman declared, and happily handed her coin to the merchant. He bit it, before slipping it into his apron pocket. His customer inquired if Tepig had a pokeball.

"She's afraid of them," the merchant replied. "Besides, pokeballs cost extra."

The old woman didn't have anymore money and she wouldn't have wanted to distress her new Pokémon, anyway. So she picked the little pig up and carried it down the road in her arms.

"I just know we're going to be great friends!" Tepig's new owner said cheerfully, not noticing the odd looks people were giving her as they wondered why she was carrying a pig down the street. "I've got fresh bread baking in oven and we'll have some for dinner tonight."

Their journey home was uneventful until they came upon the wooden stile at the entrance of the old woman's property. Tepig took one look at it and leaped out of her new owner's arms.

"What's the matter, Tepig?" the old woman asked. The Pokémon hid behind her, shivering. "Are you cold? Don't worry, we'll make a nice fire when we get home. You can light the logs yourself!" She chuckled to herself as she climbed over the stile, thinking how useful it would be to have a fire-type around. "Come along!" she called out, as Tepig stared at her from the other side of the stile. "Hop on over the stile, Tepig darling, or you can crawl right underneath it!"

But Tepig wouldn't.

So the old woman climbed back over and attempted to pick the pig up and carry it over the stile herself, but Tepig was having none of it. Again the creature leaped out of the old woman's arms, snorting out flames and setting her new owner's clothes on fire. The old woman ran to a nearby pond and jumped into it, upsetting the lone Farfetch'd swimming in it. Now sopping wet, the old lady trudged back and again tried to coax Tepig to do as she bid it. The Pokémon ran into a bush and hid. The elderly woman looked at the stile, trying to figure out what the problem was. It was only an ordinary wooden stile but for some reason Tepig was terrified of it.

"Maybe she just needs some... encouragement," the old woman decided. So she walked over to her neighbors' house where their Lilipup was sitting in the yard. "I need your help, Lilipup," she told it. It followed her over to the bush where Tepig was hiding. "Go bark at Tepig and chase it under the stile. If we stay here all day my bread will burn."

But Lilipup wouldn't. He sniffed the bush a few times and sat down beside it.

Aggravated, the old woman stomped off. _All day that Lilipup barks... and half the night, too! Then the one time that noisy creature would actually be useful..!_

Not paying attention to where she was going, she tripped over the Farfetch'd she had inadvertently chased out of the pond a few minutes ago. Annoyed at being bothered by the same human in a span of less than ten minutes, Farfetch'd brandished its leek and began hitting her with it.

"Ow-ow-ow-ow-OW! Stop it, duckie!"

Farfetch'd was not happy. He'd been separated from his trainer earlier that day and after a long and fruitless search he'd tried to make friends with a group of Ducklett nearby. The other ducks had known at once that he was not one of their number and wanted no part of him. The flock had chased him away and warned him not to come back. Now his swim had been interrupted by this flaming human (Was she a fire-type?) and the giant, clumsy creature had actually tripped over him when he'd settled down for a nice nap in the grass. Needless to say, the fowl was in a foul mood.

"Stop, stop, STOP!" the old woman cried, as Farfetch'd took his pent-up rage out on her. Finally she took the leek away from him. "Now see here!" she scolded the creature. "If you want to hit something go and whack that obnoxious Lilipup!" She pointed to the dog with the leek. "It won't bark at Tepig and Tepig won't go over the stile. Maybe if you give Lilipup some encouragement with this thing he'll cooperate!" She threw the leek back at Farfetch'd and he took it, but he had no desire to provoke Lilipup. He'd already dealt with enough angry Pokémon for one day! So he settled back in the grass and went to sleep.

The old woman sighed. "My bread's going to be ruined..."

Out of nowhere, a Litwick appeared. The old woman shrieked and fell backwards.

"Litwick?" the ghostly fire-type inquired. Or perhaps it was a fiery ghost-type.

"You're just what I need!" the old woman declared, after getting over her initial shock. She stood up and pointed to Farfetch'd. "Scorch that strange-looking duck there with your flame! It won't beat Lilipup with its leek and Lilipup won't bark at Tepig to get her over the stile. I've got to get home and get my bread out of the oven or I won't have any supper tonight."

The Litwick didn't seem to care in the least about the old woman's supper, nor did it seem interested in assaulting Farfetch'd. It just stared at her blankly.

"Litwick?"

The woman stamped her foot in frustration. Off she trudged in the direction of the Duckett who'd chased Farfetch'd away. She often went down to them in the morning and fed them scraps of bread leftover from the previous night's supper. The whole flock approached her, expecting food.

"Go spray that Litwick!" she demanded. "It won't scorch that weird-looking duck and HE won't beat Lilipup to get Tepig over the stile! There won't be any scraps of bread for you in the morning if it's all burned up tonight!"

Despite her logic, the Duckett weren't interested. Once it became apparent that she had no food for them the group wandered away.

"Well! Of all the ungrateful...!"

She walked a little further and saw a Bouffalant grazing nearby. Taking an awful chance (Bouffalant had a reputation for violently head-butting anything that happened to roam into their territory) she approached it.

"Oh, Bouffalant!" she called out to it. "Go charge that flock of Ducklett, would you? The Ducklett won't douse Litwick's flame, Litwick won't scorch the duck with the leek, the duck won't beat Lilipup, Lilipup won't chase Tepig over the stile and at this rate I'm never going to get home tonight!"

Fortunately for her, this particular Bouffalant didn't seem interested in head-butting her. Unfortunately for her, he also didn't give a hoot about her problems. He resumed eating grass. At her wit's end, the old woman screamed loudly. The Bouffalant ignored her tantrum, but a young Pokémon trainer came running in her direction.

"Are you okay, lady?" the boy asked. "I was looking for my lost Pokémon when I heard you yell."

"Lost Pokémon?" she repeated. The trainer nodded.

"A Farfetch'd and a Ratatta. I've been looking for them all day."

_Farfetch'd..._ she thought. _That's what that odd duck is called. Now I remember._

"Well, if you'll do me a favor I might be able to help you," she told the trainer. "I can't get this lazy Bouffalant to move."

"Maybe he's tired," the trainer suggested.

"He just needs some encouragement!" the old woman insisted, not realizing how often she seemed to be using that word today despite all the frustration it was bringing her. "See if you can spook him so he'll charge at that group of Ducklett over there. That way the Duckett will spray that Litwick and the Litwick-"

"Hold on a minute!" the trainer interrupted. "Why would you want to do something like that? It's mean!"

"Well-"

"Not to mention dangerous," the boy added. "What's to say that Bouffalant wouldn't come after ME instead?" This was, of course, a very sensible thing to consider; but the old woman was too worked up to see it that way.

"Oh, for heavens sake!" She stomped off, completely exasperated. _Fine! Let the brat find his own Farfetch'd!_ She passed a bush and found a man dressed in black hiding behind it. He had a red R on the front of his shirt.

"What are you doing there?" she asked.

"Shhh!" the Team Rocket grunt hissed. "I've been following that kid for over two weeks! I can't let him see me now or he'll run away again!"

"That's a perfect idea!" the old woman said enthusiastically. "If you give him a good scare he'll scream and run away. That will spook Bouffalant, who will chase the Duckett, who will spray Litwick, who will scorch Farfetch'd, who will beat Lilipup, who will scare Tepig out of the bush and over the stile. Then I'll finally be able to go home!"

The grunt looked at her as though she had completely lost her mind.

"Huh?"

"Just go scare that kid!"

"No way, grandma. Do you know how much a plane ticket from Kanto to Unova costs? My boss'll skin me alive if I don't bring any good Pokémon back after spending all that money and the kid hasn't caught anything for me to steal yet!"

The old woman rolled her eyes and walked away, wondering if the people (and Pokémon) around her were all crazy or if it was just her. She'd heard of Team Rocket but she couldn't understand the purpose of an organization dedicated to stealing from children. What was the point? Why would a grown man follow a boy here all the way from Kanto to steal Pokémon he could very easily catch himself?

Not far from where the Rocket was crouching behind the bushes, a Ratata was watching him warily. The old woman spotted the creature and approached it. _It must belong to that trainer,_ she thought.

"Hey!" She whispered to it. "Go bite that man over there. He's trying to rob your master." Ratata knew quite well what the members of Team Rocket did, which was precisely why he was keeping his distance. He didn't want to get stolen himself! "Come on!" the old woman insisted. "It will help me, too. If you bite that Rocket, he'll frighten the boy into running away. That will spook Bouffalant and cause him to charge the Ducklett causing _them_ to spray Litwit. Litwick will burn Farfetch'd, Farfetched will beat Lilipup and Lilipup will chase Tepig over the stile. Then I'll finally be able to go home and get the bread out of the oven before it's charred to cinders!"

Ratata approached the Rocket gingerly and at first the old woman thought her plan was finally going to succeed, but Ratata changed its mind at the last moment and ran back before the grunt spotted him. Ratata shook its head.

"You're as bad as Tepig!" she told it angrily. "Now get over there and do what I said or I'll _give_ you something to be afraid of!"

Ratata wouldn't, so the old woman- who was never one to make idle threats- marched over to where the local stray Purrloin was watching the scene with interest. Today Purrloin was accompanied by a strange bi-pedal Meowth the old woman had never seen before.

_All the better!_ the old woman thought. _Two cats are better than one!_

"I need your help!" she informed them without preamble. "Ratata won't bite that man behind the bushes who refuses to chase the boy who won't spook the Bouffalant who doesn't want to chase the flock of Ducklett that won't spray a certain Litwik who won't scorch Farfetch'd for not beating Lilipup because he won't chase Tepig for me!"

"Purr?" Purroin responded, somewhat confused.

"What?" Meowth said, both translating for Purrloin and voicing his own confusion.

"I need that Ratata over there to bite that guy from Team Rocket," she explained, more slowly this time. She was so caught up in the moment that she failed to notice anything unusual about a talking Meowth. "I need him to make some noise to scare the trainer nearby. That will encourage Bouffalant to get a move on and charge the Ducklett, who will spray Litwik, who will put some fire under the feathery posterior of that lazy Farfetch'd, who will beat Lilipup with its leek, who will bark at Tepig and chase her over my stile so the two of us can get home."

"Dat's quite a mouthful!" the talking Meowth said.

"Yes, and I _don't_ want to have to say it again," the exasperated old woman replied. "So if one or both of you would kindly "encourage" Ratata to cooperate, I'd greatly appreciate it. So will you help me?"

"Well, dat Rocket over dere is a colleague of mine, but I suppose I could be puuursuaded," Meowth said, glancing at the Purrloin. "I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine, ya dig?"

"And just what do you want?" the old woman inquired, genuinely curious.

The Meowth got closer to her and whispered, "I'm tryin' to impress my lady friend here. She says there ain't no Miltank native to this region. She wants to try some milk from the Miltank in 'dat barn over there 'dat the farmer brought back from his trip to Johto."

"I suppose that's simple enough," the old woman said.

"Me-owth thought so too, but Miltank ain't givin' it up!"

"We'll just see about that!" the determined old granny declared. While it was true that her powers of persuasion seemed to be at an all-time low, she refused to believe that milking a cow was beyond her capability. Besides, it was illogical to assume that a person's bad luck could last forever. As long as she kept trying, she figured, eventually something would pan out. So she went and knocked on the farmer's door and asked if she might have a bit of milk from his Miltank. He was happy to oblige her.

"You'll have to feed her," the farmer said. "She won't cooperate until you do."

_Getting a Tepig over a stile should NOT be this much work! _the old woman thought as she filled Miltank's manger with hay. _There's not going to be anything left of my bread by the time I get home!_

After feeding and milking Miltank (who, to her relief, was quite cooperative) the old woman took two dishes of milk outside for the cat-types. After they'd drank their fill, Meowth went to fulfill his end of the bargin. He approached Ratata and extended his claws.

The old woman didn't hear what he said, but Ratata took off like a Woobat out of hell, faster than she'd ever seen a living creature move. He headed straight for the man behind the bushes and bit his leg. The Rocket howled in pain and leaped in the air, alerting the young trainer to his presence. The boy screamed and ran away, and the startled Bouffalant ran as well. Bouffalant charged straight for the Ducklett, then circled around and sent the trainer and the Rocket both running for their lives. The flock of Ducklett panicked as well, scattering in several directions as they sprayed everything in their path. One of those things was Litwik, who was not pleased about it. He let out a great burst of fire, scorching Farfetch'd and several of the Ducklett before disappearing. Farfetch'd, deciding that the mischief must have been Lilipup's doing, attacked the puppy with his leek. Lilipup barked loudly, protesting the abuse. To old woman's delight, the loud noise sent Tepig scurrying out of the bush and over the stile, away from the chaos.

"Thank goodness!"

And so the old woman and her Tepig finally made it home, although her bread was charred to cinders. She vowed that next time she found a bit of money she'd invest in something more sensible, like a pair of running shoes.

As for how long Bouffalant chased the trainer and Rocket throughout the countryside, neither you or I nor anybody knows.

~End


End file.
